


Tentacle Tenebrae

by MarquiseDesaad



Series: Jason Rare Pair Challenge [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Martian Manhunter (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Dark, Graphic Non-Con, Horror, Lovecraftian Monster(s), M/M, Monster sex, Omega Jason Todd, Omegaverse, Possession, Quadruple Penetration, Tentacle Rape, Violent Sex, mind control of the aggressor, sounding with tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28234428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarquiseDesaad/pseuds/MarquiseDesaad
Summary: Facing an imminent heat, Jason seeks Bruce’s help to solve the mystery behind a series of cryptic nightmares that have been plaguing him night after night. After a connection to Martian lore is discovered, Bruce brings in J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, to help investigate. Things take a dark turn however, when J'onn becomes the unwitting channel to an ancient entity—whose dark designs to unleash new horrors on the world spell devastating consequences for Jason.
Relationships: J'onn J'onzz/Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: Jason Rare Pair Challenge [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1539763
Comments: 13
Kudos: 70
Collections: Batfam Kinkmas Exchange 2020, Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge





	Tentacle Tenebrae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scandalsavage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/gifts).



> This turned out to be my meager attempt at a loosely Lovecraftian story that's basically a flimsy cover for tentacle porn. No prior knowledge of H.P. Lovecraft's "The Call of Cthulhu" required, though the details are based on his short story. 😁🐙 
> 
> Not sure if this was quite what you asked for scandal, but hope you enjoy. 
> 
> Merry Kinkmas!
> 
> \--  
> Note: Tenebrae is literally Latin for "darkness" and is also the last 3 days of holy week, but let's not go there too much.  
> \---

_Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn._

"What do you think this means?" Jason frowned at the jumble of letters on the paper. He couldn't make any sense of it even though it was scrawled by his own hand. He handed the notepad over to Bruce, who subsequently began scanning it into the bat computer.

“Hrmm.” Bruce hummed in deep thought. “‘Cthulhu’ and ‘R’lyeh’ have phonetic similarities to words from Martian lore that J’onn has spoken of. I’ll need to run it through the Justice League database. Where did you hear this?”

Jason hesitated a moment before he answered, “It came to me in a dream.”

More like _nightly_ dreams over the course of over a week, in which those strange words had repeated over and over. He’d tried to ignore it at first, but the garbled words had persistently echoed through his brain even after he woke. The voice—though Jason had trouble calling it that—was low and rumbling like a bestial growl. In his dream he had _felt_ it more than he'd actually heard it, the voice like a bone-shaking vibration that was beyond anything that could be made by a normal human. He’d woken up in cold sweats night after night from that voice, and it was getting worse.

It was entirely possible the gibberish was a simple fabrication of Jason’s mind—some kind of delirium his fucked up head had dreamed up from his burgeoning reservoir of trauma—but something told him this wasn’t a simple delusion. This was portentous. Something dark was coming. He knew it down to his core.

If Jason had his druthers about it all, he would have just sucked it up and dealt with it. Night terrors were something he was long-familiar with, except he had an ill-timed _heat_ coming on in the next few days, and while Jason was stubborn he wasn’t stupid. Dealing with a heat under normal circumstances was a huge pain in the ass. Dealing with his heat while accompanied by the warm press of horrific nightmares was just asking for trouble. It would mean enduring truly extraordinary levels of _miserable,_ and recovering from a badly managed heat could put him out of commission for weeks. That plus the possibility that the nightmares had an external source—in which case he would be completely vulnerable, no matter how secure a nest he prepared.

Self-preservation eventually won out. If he wanted to make it to the other side of this heat as quickly and with the least amount of trauma as possible, he needed to feel _safe._ Eking it out on his own in a run down safehouse probably wasn't going to cut it. His godforsaken biology insisted that he'd do better in the presence of an alpha, and that didn't leave him many options.

That was where Bruce came in. Jason hated to admit it, but even after all these years, he still instinctively sought out Bruce as his familial alpha. After his attempts to unearth clues to the source of his nightmares had proved fruitless, Jason finally sucked up his pride and came crawling back to the cave—using the guise of needing help to solve a mystery to soothe as much of his wounded ego as he could.

Whether Bruce realized Jason’s ulterior motive of seeking out his alpha’s protection during his heat, he didn’t outwardly acknowledge it. He proceeded to analyze the strange words and run queries on the bat computer.

"It could be some kind of mystical or psychic attack," Bruce opined. "What you're experiencing doesn't appear to be isolated either. There's evidence that there may be some kind of collective effect in Gotham. It's subtle, but taken in aggregate it's statistically significant: unusual seismic activity, an increase in crime related to occult activity, and a recent uptick in hospitalizations due to unexplained hallucinations." He paused as he hacked into a hospital database to bring up some records, then added, "Patients complained of intense dreams and hearing voices. The psychiatric notes list the same words in multiple cases: ‘Cthulhu’ and ‘R’lyeh’ or similar phonetic spelling, along with descriptions of ancient stone buildings and some kind of dark entity."

Jason sighed inwardly in relief. The wider effect Bruce described definitely wasn't good, but at least it confirmed that he wasn't simply going crazy. A new sense of unease formed in the pit of his stomach though. He’d only told Bruce about the words from his dream, but he'd gotten flashes of images like what Bruce pulled from the patient records too. He’d been reluctant at first, but it was becoming apparent he'd made the right choice coming to the batcave, if only for the sheer power of Bruce’s data mining systems to compile the analysis in real-time.

"I'll run a cross mapping against similar symbology." Bruce tapped and tapped at the keys as Jason watched him work. When he'd been Robin, he used to marvel at Bruce’s uncanny ability to find connections between seemingly unrelated leads. Then, when he'd first come back from from the dead, he'd done everything he could to subvert and surpass that same incredible skill. And now, after everything that happened, Jason hadn't quite come full circle but he was beginning to feel that appreciation for Bruce’s brilliant mind again. He wondered if Bruce knew that, or if he cared at all about how Jason felt about coming back to the pack.

Jason sighed. It was pointless to dwell on it, because if Bruce ever felt anything at all, Jason would be the last person to know.

Instead he tried to refocus on solving the mystery at hand and thought back to what he could remember of his dream. The details actually remained surprisingly distinct. He could recall impossibly angled architecture with arches leading both into and out of stone porticos, like an Escher drawing that endlessly looped in and out of itself. The buildings were tessellated into a great crumbling city made of intricately fitted stone, covered in layers of moss and mold that gave everything the impression of being covered in wet slime. There were tall standing stones and pillars marked with unintelligible symbols, but the most terrifying was the glimpses of something crawling underneath the ruins.

That was where Jason’s memory of the dream grew vague though, with whatever dark entity continuing to lurk just out of reach of his recollection. It might have remained obscured in his subconscious if Bruce hadn’t happened to bring up an image on the bat computer screen. "The descriptions from the patients match a recent archeological find that's currently being studied at Gotham University," he said, gesturing toward the picture. It was some kind of idol carved out of a dark green stone.

Almost immediately, Jason's mind flashed back to the ruined city, except this time the moss-covered stones cleared to reveal the horror underneath. There had been a rustling of leathery wings, and out of the darkness came a large bloated paw covered in green scales. Sharp talons scraped and scratched against jagged stone. Long, slithering tentacles emerged, wet and glistening as they reached toward him….

Jason gasped aloud, clutching his head as lancing pain whited out his vision. A moment later he blinked his eyes clear to find Bruce holding him up, an arm looped under his chest and the other over his back. A hand was rubbing gently over the scruff of his neck—a pressure that was just enough to be reminiscent of a bonding bite between familial pack—and Jason instinctively relaxed into it.

"Jason," Bruce’s voice was strangely soft, "you're going into season."

Jason startled at that. Shit. This close, even with scent blockers, Bruce had smelled Jason’s oncoming heat.

"I'll be fine," Jason huffed and straightened up. He couldn't bring himself to pull away though. After all one of the reasons he'd come here in the first place was because he recognized the vulnerable predicament he was in. He hated that Bruce’s presence was reassuring, but he accepted it for the moment, even if he would never admit it out loud.

Fortunately, Bruce didn't push it, but he asked, "What just happened? It looked like you were in pain."

Jason clenched his teeth as he tried to figure out how much to tell Bruce. His first instinct was to shut down against Bruce’s probing, but stonewalling his own case was just going to bite him in the ass. It took a moment to rein in his contrarian proclivity, then he finally admitted, “I remembered suddenly, like a flashback, that I saw that… _thing._ In my dream.” He pointed at the image still up on the computer screen. "What is it?" Jason asked. "Is that what's causing this?"

Bruce scowled as he turned back to the console. “We could be dealing with something occult. Records from Theosophists documented similar intersections of phenomena in the past. Coupled with the linkages to Martian mythology it's unlikely this is a coincidence. I need to get J'onn on the line."

Jason waited as Bruce switched to a secure comm to call up to the Justice League Watchtower. He kept the other end of the line private so Jason could only hear half of the conversation as he filled J'onn in. Jason had never had much contact with the Martian. Most of his interactions with the Justice League was from when he was Robin, and it was mostly limited to Wonder Woman and Superman. Once he'd become the Red Hood, he hadn't ever felt the need to put himself in the presence of one of the world's most powerful metas. Martian Manhunter was perhaps the world's most powerful telepath too, which warranted Bruce’s typical hyper-paranoid levels of caution, yet he still seemed to trust J'onn. Jason was a little curious to see if Bruce would bring him into the case.

Eventually, the data Bruce had collected was relayed through the network to J'onn. Then Bruce pulled up his cowl and got up to head toward the vehicles.

Jason followed, but when they got to the batmobile, Bruce blocked him. "Stay here," he commanded. "It's not safe in your condition."

"Excuse me?" Jason resisted the urge to snarl. "In _my condition?"_ He'd thought they'd put this argument to bed ages ago. Sure, for a night or two, maybe twice a year if he wasn't taking suppressants, when he was in full heat he was a liability—heats sapped strength, reduced mental capacity, and increased sensitivity to pain and arousal. But _only_ those days he was in full heat. He could work right up to it and after, and Jason was still a day or two away from this round. He'd proven to Bruce that he could work right up to the fringes when he was Robin, and he could still do it now. The fact that Bruce was trying to sideline him was infuriating.

Bruce turned to him, his posture rigid, what could be seen of his face under the cowl was expressionless. "You're overreacting. You could be under the effect of some kind of telepathic attack. Being in the field when the effects are unknown is too risky."

" _I'm_ the one who brought this case to you." Jason found he had unconsciously shifted his feet into a defensive stance. "This is _my_ case. I'm going."

All the signs pointed to the likely outcome that Bruce was going to say 'no.' From the way he hadn't relaxed his posture in the slightest, to the way his lips were now pressed into a thin line, to the way he had balled his fists at his sides. So Jason was surprised when Bruce actually said, "We're going to the archeological lab at Gotham University to inspect the idol being studied. J'onn will meet us there. Follow my lead, and if I order you to fall back, run."

With that, he turned and entered the batmobile. There was an awkward pause in which Jason attempted to emotionally disarm himself of the fight drive that had flared up, but then he collected himself and marched toward the car. He slid into the passenger seat and they were off.

…………………………

The archeology research building at Gotham U was an ornate, "Second Empire" Victorian structure built in the university's heyday of third-world pilfering. It was small by modern standards but it still stood grand within the borders of the central campus. At one point Jason had dreamed of attending school amidst the normally bustling campus, but that dream had died long ago in the rubble of a warehouse in Ethiopia. The campus was just a reminder of shattered hopes now. At least it was quiet this late into the night, so it was a relatively simple matter to swing over the rooftops and drop inside.

Bruce led the way as they navigated through the halls and down to the basement archival storage. After a few seconds to pick the lock, they quietly slipped into a dimly lit room stocked with rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves. Jason peered through the aisles as they passed through, but they were all filled with the same nondescript brown boxes. They finally stopped at an aisle near the back wall, where Bruce scanned the meticulously coded labels until he pulled a box from the bottom shelf.

"Be careful," a voice said. "Do not open it yet." The tones were low and supple, but it still made Jason nearly jump out of his skin. Years of training allowed him to mostly suppress his fear instinct, channeling the response into an immediate defensive spin to face the potential attacker, except he found himself face to face with none other than J'onn J'onzz, the alien superhero known as Martian Manhunter.

"I apologize. I did not mean to frighten you." J'onn inclined his head and the red gleam of his eyes cast a faint glow. It gave his skin a momentary ruddy flush, but then it was back to the normal muted green.

 _I'm not scared._ Jason thought, barely stopping himself from verbalizing the retort, but then he remembered that J'onn was a telepath and probably picked up on it anyway. Judging by the way J'onn subtly turned his head toward him, pinning his almost reptilian stare on Jason, his supposition was on the mark.

"You... I didn't see when you got here." Jason grasped for something to say, feeling uncomfortable under J'onn's scrutiny. Was he reading Jason’s mind? How much did he know about Jason?

J'onn, for his part, clearly recognized Jason's unease. "Red Hood," he said, "You have my word, as does Batman, that I will not enter your mind without permission. Superficial thoughts are unavoidable however. Sensing them is innate, much like you would not be able to turn off your hearing."

It didn't go very far in the way of being reassuring, but if Bruce could make it work despite being the least trusting person on the planet, then Jason could make it work too.

"Okay," Jason nodded, though he went ahead and initiated the mental exercises Bruce had taught him to defend against any further telepathic intrusion.

Bruce hadn't moved a muscle during the brief exchange. He remained outwardly calm except for a distinct line of tension in his shoulders. He kept both J'onn and Jason in view as he directed their attention back toward the box. "Do you sense anything?" he addressed J'onn.

J'onn touched a hand to his temple, remaining motionless as he reached out with his abilities to sense whatever object was stashed inside the box. There was nothing for Jason to do but wait, but the time allowed him to observe J'onn more closely.

The first thing he noted was just how large J'onn was. He was a good several inches taller than Bruce with the body mass to match. And maybe it was his oncoming heat muddling his brain, but Jason couldn’t help but take note of J'onn's powerful physique too. J'onn wasn't wearing much—just some shorts and a criss cross of straps that held his cape in place—so Jason could easily see all the sculpted, sinewy muscle that made up his form.

If Jason was one to indulge in his preferences during his heat, someone with J'onn's build would push all the right buttons for him, green-skinned Martian or not. But Jason had always chosen to deal with his heat alone since his return from the dead. Contrary to what popular alpha society would like believe, omegas were far from mindless slaves to their own biology. Jumping into bed with the first alpha he met was at the bottom of his priorities. He intended to keep it that way.

Besides, Martians didn't have the same designations. He doubted J'onn would even be interested in him, let alone be open to sharing his heat.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Jason felt his cheeks go hot under his helmet. Crap. Now was not the time to be ogling his pack alpha's comrade, especially since he could probably still read Jason’s surface emotions. 

Fortunately, J'onn appeared to be in deep concentration. He’d been staring fixedly at the archival box the whole time.

"There is a vast amount of psychic residue," J'onn finally broke the silence, "but I am unable to see it clearly. It is as if it is consciously playing games with me." He narrowed his eyes under the heavy ridge of his brow and looked at Bruce. "Open the box."

Bruce proceeded, slowly lifting the edges of the lid away and reaching in to pull out the idol.

Jason leaned in to get a better look—the figure was about a foot tall, made of a dark green stone with small iridescent veins of gold that glimmered in the harsh fluorescence of the basement lights. It was polished so finely it almost looked wet, which only enhanced the feeling of unease as Jason took in its appearance—a bulbous head with dangling feelers for a mouth, a scaled blubbery body, bat-like wings, and large clawed paws—a depiction of a monstrous horror that somehow made Jason’s skin crawl.

"Moon of Mars, this can't be!" J'onn exclaimed as he took in the sight of the figure. He darted forward with inhuman speed and snatched it from Bruce’s hand.

"J'onn! What is it?" Bruce didn't move to take the statue back, but he switched into a fighting stance. Jason followed suit, unsure of what to make of J'onn's reaction.

J'onn clutched the figure in his hands. His eyes began to glow a lurid red, his skin flexed and rippled, and the shape of his face elongated until his mouth dropped under his chin and then splayed out into a myriad of tendrils.

 _"Cthulhu fhtagn!"_ he suddenly screamed.

It came with a force that hit like a concussion blast. Jason was slammed backward against the wall so hard it knocked the wind from his lungs. He coughed and tried to push himself up, but J'onn was standing over him, his face a ghastly reproduction of the monstrous idol's: a multitude of slithering tentacles hung from his face, his eyes blazed like glowing pits of fire.

_Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn._

The words reverberated so loudly Jason felt like his skull would shatter, but then against his will, his eyes began to droop shut. A feeling of exhaustion took hold, and the last thought that crossed Jason's consciousness was the realization that he hadn't heard the words aloud. He had heard it in his mind.

…………………………

_Cthulhu fhtagn…._

A voice that wasn't a voice. A feeling like curling smoke wisping about his ears….

Jason climbed back into the waking world an indeterminate amount of time later, feeling sore and tender all over. The cloud of sleep clung to his body, and he kept his eyes closed as he waited for it to slowly clear by degrees. He ran through a mental check of himself—he felt hot, and as he subtly shifted he could feel the friction of draped cloth against bare skin. There was a wet warmth between his legs too… and a familiar pulse of heightened sensitivity there.

He was in heat. In the full throes of it… but it was supposed to be a couple days away, wasn't it? How had it come on so fast?

"I've kept you in a state of semi-consciousness for the last several days," a voice answered, though Jason hadn't said a word.

He instantly tensed. He recognized J'onn's voice, but that was hardly comforting. He blinked open his eyes slowly, taking measured breaths to try and quell the rise of panic that threatened to boil over.

"How are you feeling?" J'onn was standing literally on top of him, his legs planted on either side of Jason’s thighs. His face was back to normal, or at least what qualified as normal for a Martian—anthropoid face, no feelers, eerie glowing red eyes—but something felt _wrong._

Jason pushed up on his elbows, taking note that he was lying on a mat in some kind of high-ceilinged warehouse. He was nude except for a blanket draped over him. Jason clutched at it as he scooted himself back. The insides of his thighs felt slippery. Wet slick dribbled a trail on the floor as he attempted to put distance between himself and J'onn.

"Where's Batman?" A nervousness choked Jason's words, and _goddamnit_ did he hate that he immediately sought out the presence of his pack alpha.

J'onn didn't answer the question. Instead, he chanted, _"The Old Ones came to the young world out of the sky. They are gone now, inside the earth and under the sea; but their dead bodies tell secrets in dreams."_

It sent chills down Jason’s spine. J'onn had a bizarre look in his eye, menacing and cold, completely unlike anything Jason had seen from him earlier.

 _"Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn."_ The words poured from J'onn's tongue as he closed the distance between them. The strange syllables rumbled like the dropping of heavy stones.

Those words. That was what all started this, but what did they mean?

 _In his house at R’lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming,_ came the answer even though Jason hadn't voiced the thought. J'onn hadn't moved his mouth either... he’d spoken telepathically.

Jason had already been on guard, but with those words the alarm bells in his head were now blaring loudly. He was in danger. He had to get away from J'onn because whoever this _Cthulhu_ was, he couldn't be anything good.

"Where's Batman?" Jason repeated. He couldn't hide the desperation in his voice this time. He was naked and extremely vulnerable during his heat, while J'onn was one of the most powerful beings on the planet—a high-powered meta who wasn't acting remotely like himself. J'onn had undressed him and kept him unconscious for days with no good explanation, and now he was talking like a man possessed.

J'onn easily followed along as Jason continued to scuttle backward. He glanced from side to side in search of an exit, but the edges of the room seemed inexplicably dark, so much they seemed to melt into oblivion. Everything suddenly felt very closed in as Jason stared up at J'onn as he approached, watching the ripple of muscles as he moved, powerful yet fluid at the same time.

_Too fluid._

J'onn was shape-shifting before Jason’s eyes. His limbs were growing longer into thick corded appendages, boneless and writhing. They spread and multiplied as they slithered outward.

Jason rolled and tried to get to his feet to flee, but a ropey tentacle quickly shot out and wrapped around his ankle. The blanket was tossed aside and he was dragged backward. More tentacles entwined about his other leg and then his arms, until he was held down splayed with the J'onn looming over him. J'onn's legs and arms had morphed into several thick, snake-like limbs that ended in suckers. Jason could feel them burning into his skin as he struggled to free himself.

It was futile. J'onn was far too strong, and Jason was already weakened from his heat. As if reading his mind, J'onn sent a tentacle forward to grip around Jason’s nape. He felt a pressure over his neck, like a bite, and the urge to submit suddenly flooded his body. Jason fought as hard as he could, but his heat-addled body succumbed and went limp.

"There are arts which could revive Them," J'onn leaned over him, his voice guttural, his breath gusting hot over Jason’s scent gland. He flicked his tongue out. It was red and forked and slimy as he licked and probed at Jason’s throat. "The stars have come round again to the right positions in the cycle of eternity. The Great Priest Cthulhu needs a consort in this realm to serve him as an anchor."

Jason jerked in J'onn's grasp, trying to twist and turn away from the tongue that was now lapping hungrily over his gland, but the tentacles around his arms and legs held fast. He felt another tentacle snake around his waist, then something slid up along his thigh and between his legs to stroke along his slit.

"No!" Jason regathered his strength to buck and thrash and kick with all his might, but J'onn was undeterred. He reared back and suddenly began to grow—limbs and torso elongating, growing thicker and taller until he could simply lift Jason off the ground. Without any leverage to balance, Jason could only flail against the numerous tentacles dangling him in the air like a marionette. Jason's legs were pulled open to expose his slit, and then a blunt tentacle was teasing at his entrance, circling around his folds and smearing slick up and down its length.

"J'onn, Stop!" Jason hoped that by using his name, J'onn would come to his senses. "Whatever's controlling you, fight it J'onn!"

It didn't elicit the intended response. A cruel curl twisted the corners of J'onn's mouth as he wrapped a tentacle in Jason’s hair, forcing their faces close as he spoke, "An omega such as yourself, who has crossed the chasm of death and back, will be a perfect consort for the Master. Through you, I will bridge the Great Priest's resurrection."

The tentacle around Jason’s waist tightened as he was tilted back, and suddenly he was swarmed. Tendrils swept over his chest, a strangely soft, velvety feeling as they swirled around his nipples to tease them erect. More reached down between his legs, wetting against his dripping slick and wrapping around his small prick to stroke him hard. Jason flinched and tried to twist away, but the tendrils were everywhere. He felt blood rush to his groin as he started to respond to the touch. His body was horribly hypersensitive during heat, and there wasn't ever a time more than now that he felt the curse of his omega designation.

A whimper spilled from his lips as another slithering limb pushed at his slit, an insistent pressure that slowly breached past his folds. It pushed and pushed a foreign warmth into his hole until it was just past the swell of his heat-engorged cunt. Jason gasped at the invasion, crying out as the tentacle continued to drill in further and further. He thrashed against J'onn's hold, but that only seemed to spur him on. The tentacle felt like it was getting bigger, expanding inside him, the movements became rougher and more forceful as it stretched him open.

Jason's mind raced to find a way to escape, but there was little he could do splayed out and suspended in the air by J'onn's writhing appendages.

Tears streaked down his face as he bit back a sob. He'd never… he’d never been penetrated before… not like this, and it _hurt_ as the tentacle finally broke fully into his slit _._ The tentacle began thrusting, undulating and pulsing each time it reached inside him. Then to Jason’s horror, even with as much as he tried to mentally squelch his body's reaction, sensations of pleasure began to bloom through him. He could feel a fresh gush of slick dripping down his legs, leaving him weak and powerless to his own arousal. His thighs trembled as J'onn's tentacle continued to pump—in and out, in and out–and soon the whimpers from his throat turned into moans.

J'onn licked his forked tongue over the perked buds of Jason’s chest. A second tongue darted out to slaver at Jason’s scent gland.

"The presentations on Earth are unique," J'onn said as he grazed his teeth over the join of Jason’s neck and shoulder so that the jagged edges caught on Jason’s skin. "There is no such thing on Mars, but when we copulate there is no part of the other that is sacred. There is no part of you that I cannot touch."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw another tentacle appear, this one with a bulbed tip… and further down the shaft there was another bulge. It was shaped like a cock, except there were multiple small knots, spaced out one after another. The tentacle quickly disappeared from view, but then Jason felt something swiping along his slick-covered thighs before probing against his ass.

"Don't!" Jason cried, because it was clear what J'onn was going to do. He squirmed and arched amidst the tangle of J'onn's slithering limbs, but they only gripped him tighter. The suckers at the tips of the tentacles around his arms and legs latched harder. Jason yelped, his body went rigid and tense from the pain, and that was when the second tentacle shoved into him.

He screamed as he was forced open from behind, the swollen bulb of the tip ripped past the ring of his anus, then he felt the shaft feeding into him until the bulge of the first knot slammed against his abused hole. The shaft dragged out a few inches then slammed in again, harder and harder until the knot was battering through. He clenched as he felt himself tearing further to accommodate. Each subsequent bulge brought a new wave of agony. It was all he could do to try and breathe through it, forcing himself to relax as much as possible through the violation, until finally a second and then a third knot was seated inside him. J'onn didn't force the shaft in any further, but Jason could feel it pulsing an incredible heat from within.

"Stop," he pleaded. "Get it out!" He ached from the base of his spine up through his torso, feeling stuffed so full he thought he would burst. All while the first tentacle continued to fuck into his slit. More tentacles teased and prodded over his body, stroking his prick and sucking at his nipples. It left him excruciatingly aroused, his body too befuddled with heat despite the pain and terror.

He panted short, stuttering breaths as the shaft in his ass began to move, striking an asynchronous rhythm against the tentacle already plundering his slit. His ass stretched and contracted around each consecutive knot. It caused his cunt to flutter in sympathy, a heat-driven reflex that anticipated a knot filling him there too. The fucking was brutal, and Jason was helpless to stop it.

_Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn._

Those words repeated in his mind, over and over. That bestial growl of a voice that stabbed almost viscerally through his head. It was a telepathic attack, Jason realized, perhaps the very same that J'onn had succumbed to. He wasn't sure if he could fight it, but he desperately tried to wall off his thoughts because there was little else he could do with his body already being ravaged.

 _Interesting._ More words invaded his head. This time it was J'onn's deep, velvety tones that speared through his skull. _You draw a dark curtain around your mind. No matter. It will not take much to have the curtain unhinged._

Images flooded Jason's mind— he was watching himself from J'onn's view—saw himself twisting and struggling in the air, his skin flushed in heat, tentacles groping and spreading his legs in a vulgar display as he was repeatedly penetrated in both his holes. The thick, green tentacles were wet with the red of blood and the shine of slick. It was smeared into a pink froth across his thighs.

He felt J'onn's sadistic glee as he considered what he was going to do next. The image was thrust into his mind and Jason recoiled in horror. He couldn't do _that,_ could he?

J'onn could. And he did. In his mind's eye, Jason was forced to watch as a tendril that had been stroking his hardened prick began to shift upward, circling the tip and smearing the small beads of sterile fluid that leaked from the shaft. It wriggled against the opening and then dipped inside. Jason immediately jerked away, the sensation of something touching him there, _inside his urethra,_ was alarming. It felt foreign, and as J'onn pushed his tendril further and further into Jason’s prick, a strange new feeling began to permeate from his groin.

"Nnnaaah!" Jason let out a cry that sounded far closer to a pleasured keen than he wanted, but it was undeniably forcing his arousal to a new peak. The tendril began to glide down the length of him, reaching inside him in a way he’d never imagined. It squirmed all the way to his root, went rigid and expanded, then corkscrewed as it pulled out.

"Aaah! No… no more!" Jason shook his head frantically. It was too much. J'onn was fucking him in his prick at the same as in his slit and his ass. His heat wrought out waves and waves of pleasure from his body—pleasure dripping like blood from his pain—a cruelty that his designation wouldn't let him deny.

Jason just wanted it to end. "Stop! Please…." At some point tears had started streaming from his eyes. His breath grew wet and hitched as J'onn increased the pace. The tendril in his prick was joined by another that slithered around his girth. The shaft at his backside began pulling fully out before ramming back in, each succession of knots bloating his belly with every assault. Then, the tentacle at his slit began to swell just past Jason’s folds when it was fully inserted—J'onn was going to knot him there too.

The swell of it pushed and pulled at the walls of his cunt. He felt the pressure of it growing, compounding the already unbearable fullness he felt from the knotted tentacle in his ass. It forced him to arch his back, changing the angle of the tendrils so that they were further stimulating his prick.

He felt like he was going to explode. The pleasure rolling through him was so violent it felt like he was being struck each time he reached a new crest. Then, when he thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, J'onn leaned in to press his mouth against Jason’s scent gland, pressing his sharp teeth to puncture Jason’s neck in a claiming bite.

Jason shuddered, feeling the painful rush of a forced submission wash through him. He fought it as much he could, somehow mustering enough resistance in himself to jerk away from J'onn's teeth.

"No! Stop!" He made one last plea for the relentless violation to end, but J'onn responded by shoving a tentacle into his mouth. Jason gagged as it rammed down his throat. He choked. He couldn't breathe. The tentacle fucked itself deep, and as Jason began to convulse from lack of oxygen the knot in his slit swelled and locked. It triggered a climax that cascaded like a controlled blast—spasms that clenched and rolled and seized him with torturous ecstasy. It went on and on, razing every last bit of his defenses until he was screaming and crying around the tentacle plugging his throat.

Finally, after what felt like hours of torment, J'onn unlocked the tentacle from his slit and dropped him, flinging him like a rag doll to the floor. The shaft and the tendrils retracted, the tentacle in his mouth and the swarm of suckered arms groping his body receded. He was free, but Jason remained where he fell, limp and trembling. He tried to force himself to get up and run, but being forced into orgasm in the middle of his heat left him too weak. He felt lightheaded and flushed. The aftermath of the unwanted pleasure lingered. His entire body tingled with it, masking the pain of being knotted so savagely. It made him feel sick to know that his body had utterly betrayed him.

Then, out of the haze of pain, through the tattered veil of his mind slipping into unconsciousness, a hellishly inhuman voice reverberated through his skull:

… _Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn._

Jason curled into himself and tried to cover his ears, but it was pointless. Those words hadn't been spoken aloud. It was that thing— _Cthulhu_ , depicted in that horrible little statue—that started all this. Some kind of entity that had the power to possess one of the most powerful telepaths in the world.

 _Do you hear him, omega?_ J'onn's voice cut straight into Jason’s mind. _He wants to have you for Himself, in his own form, but He must wait until the stars are right. Then Cthulhu will plunge from world to world through the sky. He will teach us new ways to shout and kill and revel and enjoy ourselves, and all the earth will flame with a holocaust of ecstasy and freedom._

J'onn remained where he stood, but now as Jason looked up at him from where he lay—saw how J'onn towered over Jason, grown so tall that he had easily held Jason up off the floor, with tentacles flailing all around him, piercing red eyes focused on Jason like a laser beam and filled with such malevolence it had Jason’s blood running cold—a new terror began to set in.

Jason watched the flabby appendages of what used to be J'onn's legs unfurl to reveal a large, dusky red cock that stretched out long and thick from the base of his torso. It had several concentric ridges all along its girth and the tip had an oddly flat rim as it twitched and pulsed in arousal.

J'onn wasn't done, Jason realized belatedly. He hadn't reached a climax despite having violated Jason in every way possible. Penetration from the tentacles had only been the start.

Jason’s hands were clammy with sweat as he frantically scrambled away. He tried to push to his feet, but his legs felt like jelly. His own slick and blood made the concrete floor treacherously slippery. Despite the pain from the earlier violation making his movements sluggish, Jason managed to lunge forward… only to be slammed back down by a heavy weight at his back.

Chips of concrete went flying as several enormous, sharp claws dug into the concrete around him, digging into the floor as it wrapped beneath him. Jason squirmed and turned his head over his shoulder to see J’onn shapeshifting again. His forelimbs thickened into large meaty paws covered in slimy scales. The palms were large enough that one could spread across the expanse of Jason’s torso so that the talons curled into his rib cage. J’onn’s body grew larger and rounder. A corpulent belly with pale, rubbery skin ballooned from his abdomen. Leather bat-wings sprouted from his back and a spaded tail erupted from his rear.

And then there was J’onn’s face. It swelled fat and pulpy until his head was a fleshy glob. An array of suckered feelers sprouted from the lower half of his face until his nose and mouth was obscured by the writhing mess. J'onn had taken the form of that horrible little statue Bruce had found in the archeology storeroom—the form of _Cthulhu_ himself—in startlingly exponential proportions.

Jason was scooped up in J'onn's greasy paw and positioned over the engorged cock jutting out from under his bloated belly. J'onn leaned his squid-like face forward so that the quivering feelers could reach out and tilt up Jason’s chin. Then in that booming, monstrous bellow that had torn itself from Jason’s nightmare into reality, he said, “He came himself from the stars, and brought His image with Him. The Great Priest, _Cthulhu._ Legends of His power and His feats of destruction were well known on Mars. And soon we will know them on Earth.”

With a rumbling growl, J'onn tightened the grip of his fat paw about Jason’s torso and began to lower him onto his cock. The circumference of the flat ridged phallus was as thick as Jason’s forearm and as long as his leg. There was no way he was going to take that thing inside him easily, even with having been knotted earlier by J'onn's tentacle. Jason punched and jabbed desperately at the scaley meat of J'onn's paw until his hands were bloody and raw, but he couldn't dislodge J'onn's grip. J'onn didn't even flinch. He merely proceeded to sink Jason down upon himself until the circumference of the rigid flesh pressed Jason’s slit open and sank inside.

Jason screamed. He screamed and screamed as he was torn with the penetration. He cried and whimpered as he was pumped up and down bodily over J'onn's thick member, each concentric ridge that lined the shaft offering a fresh burst of burning pain as Jason was forced to receive it.

The ghastly feelers attached to J'onn's abominable head extended to wrap around Jason’s face. They probed into his mouth and nostrils, causing Jason to gag on the rank, hot breath and salty ooze that coated his tongue from the slathering feelers.

J'onn threw his ghastly head back as he continued fucking Jason, thrusting upward as he pulled Jason down. He emitted animalistic grunts and groans each time he sunk himself in as deep as he could go. Jason's entire frame jarred in a violent rhythm each time he was impaled. He could only take so much of it into himself though—J’onn’s massive cock could only go in a fraction of its length before it hit the back of Jason’s channel—but then Jason felt a _tension_ inside him. It started deep in his belly, a thrum that burrowed further and further up through his stomach. It was an aching pain that seared through his chest and up his throat at the same time he felt the successive ridges of J’onn’s shaft stretch and slide into his slit.

It shouldn’t have been possible, but J’onn was somehow thrusting deeper and deeper inside Jason, until that thrumming ache extended into the back of Jason’s palate. Something was forming inside his mouth, and Jason realized with a sickening horror that J’onn had phased the length of his cock through Jason’s body and was now re-solidifying the end to drive it out through Jason’s mouth.

Jason’s shriek of horror was cut short as the flat-ridged glans of J’onn’s horrendous penis was forced up from the back of his throat and over his tongue, stretching his jaw to the brink of coming unhinged until it burst out past his lips. He was skewered on J’onn’s monstrous cock as it fucked all the way through him from end to end. J’onn tightened his grip over Jason’s torso and jacked him harder and faster while Jason thrashed and flailed. It was all Jason could do but sputter and gasp for air between each merciless penetration, crying and praying that J’onn wouldn’t re-solidify his shaft in a way that would rip Jason’s insides to shreds.

The heinous copulation continued until at last, J’onn’s movements grew erratic. He gave several short, brutal thrusts before the push and pull became long and slow. J’onn snapped his hips to bottom out one last time with the tip of his cock protruding from Jason’s lips, then flung his feelers in the air and let out a shattering roar. Jason felt the bulge of a knot press against the swollen walls inside his slit. He expected it to lock within him, just as J’onn’s tentacle had before, but instead it began to move. It rolled, a bolus that undulated upward like a wave, surging like hot fire through his body until it squeezed painfully through his throat. The turgid cockhead jutting from his taut lips was so bloated it wrenched open his jaw with an excruciatingly pop, and then a gush of acrid semen spewed over Jason’s face as J’onn rocked and shuddered in ecstasy.

Jason gagged and spasmed around the cock jammed in his mouth. Even if he could breathe the agony wouldn’t have been any less. He was well past his breaking point. The fucking had torn every last shred of his body and soul asunder, leaving him a trembling, broken mess in the wake of the most harrowing ordeal since his life was obliterated at the hands of the Joker.

J’onn pulled himself out before Jason blacked out, but kept his grubby paw wrapped around his chest. Jason hung limply in his grip, too exhausted to fight anymore. J’onn lifted Jason up to eye level, then draped his feelers over Jason’s face, smearing the slimy come over his skin and caressing his mouth in a mockery of a kiss.

 _Cthulhu fhtagn._ The familiar words echoed in his mind as the tentacles wrapped over his eyes like a blindfold, pulling Jason into the tenebrous oblivion of unconsciousness.

…………………………

When Jason woke next, it was to the numb, sluggish feeling of having been drugged. He tried to open his eyes, but everything looked blurry. He couldn’t focus, but he could feel he was laying on something soft. His senses felt dull, but there was a pervading ache across his entire body. When he shifted he could feel the subtle pull of a loose garment, like a medical robe. He turned his head slowly from side to side, trying to listen for clues as to where he might be.

A voice spoke up beside him, and Jason let out a sigh of relief because it was familiar: “Jason, it’s Bruce. You’re in the Batcave.”

There was the barest of pressure against the scent gland at his neck, and feelings of warmth and safety flooded through his fogged brain. _Safe._ His instinctual reaction to being touched by his familial alpha told him he should be at ease… but, something felt _off._ Where was J’onn?

Jason tried to open his mouth to ask but he couldn’t seem to move his jaw. His heart thumped with panic. What the hell was wrong with him?

The blurry, black silhouette that was Bruce moved into view. Jason felt a hand brush lightly across his cheek. “Don’t try to talk,” he said. “Your jaw was dislocated. It’s wired shut while you heal.”

His mind flashed back to the revolting feeling of J'onn's cock coming out of his mouth. He remembered the pungent taste of slime on his tongue, and then frantically swallowed down the bitter bile that threatened to come up. He didn't want to vomit with his jaw wired, but his chest felt so tight he couldn't breathe. How did he get here? Where was J'onn? What had happened to him now that Jason was here?

A pitched tone suddenly stuttered through the ensuing silence and Jason realized it was coming from himself. It was the sound of his own pitiful whimpering.

The blurry form of Bruce moved closer to cup his cheek. "Shhh. Are you worried about J’onn? It's okay. I found him. I found _you._ You’re safe now. Don’t worry about him."

Bruce gave his scent glad another gentle press, another hint of a pack bite that triggered a calming effect on Jason’s body. Bruce's hand lingered before moving away, grazing Jason’s cheek again as a thumb flicked out to brush his lips.... A chill went up Jason’s spine. It was _uncomfortable_ to have Bruce touching him like that, but he couldn't move away as the effects of the simulated pack bite took hold. Jason tried to rationalize it—maybe Bruce was being protective after what J'onn had done?

Regardless of what Bruce was intending, Jason didn't like the contact. He didn't feel the flush from his heat anymore, but his whole body was beginning to hurt. It felt _raw_ and oversensitive. His skin prickled at the thought of being touched, and maybe whatever was in the IV drip was wearing off, but the dull ache he had woken to was now becoming an insistent throb. From the sharp ache of his jaw to the soreness of his throat, to the pang throughout his battered torso and down to... to... down _lower_. Jason stopped himself from thinking about that. Instead, he tried to roll onto his side, taking several long breaths and blinking his eyes again to try and regain some vision. His wrist caught against something as he tried to move though. He was tied to the gurney.

Bruce moved into view again. Jason could see him more clearly this time. His face was creased with weariness as he glanced down at Jason. "I strapped your wrist with the IV to the bed because you kept moving." He held up a syringe. "I’m going to give you something for the pain. It will make you drowsy, but don’t worry. You need to rest. This will help you sleep."

Jason tried to remain still as Bruce leaned forward to administer the drug, but afterward as he turned to put the syringe back on a tray, Jason caught sight of something behind him. There was a desk on the other side of the room. Upon it sat something dark, about two hand-spans tall. Jason stared at it, squinting his eyes back into focus.

It was a carved stone figure. Its bulbous octopus-like head sat atop a rotund, reptilian body with wings. It had club-like paws that ended in talons. It glowed with flecks of gold despite it being carved from a dark green stone.

It was the statue of Cthulhu.

Jason jerked against his restraint, eyes wide in shock as he snapped his head up to look back at Bruce.

Bruce met his eyes with an eerie calm. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. "It’s alright, Jason. You’re safe. Sleep. Dream."

"Nnnn!" Jason tried to protest but his wired jaw stopped him from opening his mouth. Desperately, he shook his head. _No... please, no...._ That statue. Bruce's strange demeanor. This wasn't right. Something was very, _very_ wrong.

He tried to launch himself from the bed, but his limbs were growing heavy from whatever Bruce had injected him with. Jason flopped his legs over the edge of the mattress, but Bruce caught him. He easily lifted Jason back onto the bed, then grazed his hand over Jason’s groin before pressing a hand to caress over his abdomen. 

Jason froze, too shocked and too weak from the tranquilizer Bruce had given him to struggle. Bruce held him down, bringing his other hand to cover Jason’s eyes as the sedative gradually overpowered him.

 _"Cthulhu fhtagn,"_ Bruce crooned softly. "The Great Priest awaits."

Jason closed his eyes and slept.


End file.
